


To Continue on One Path is to Go Backward

by Wintercameandwent



Series: Living with Regret of the Chance Not Taken [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Rhaegar Won, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bittersweet, Canon Divergence - Robert's Rebellion, Catelyn Tully Stark Dies, Cersei is married to Addam Marbrand, Consequences, Daenerys marries Renly Baratheon, Don't Like Don't Read, Elia Martell Lives, F/M, Jon Snow's Name is Jaehaerys, King Rhaegar Targaryen, Light Angst, Lyanna Stark Lives, Margaery Tyrell Lives, Myrcella Baratheon is now Marbrand, No character bashing, Not Beta Read, POV Elia Martell, POV Lyanna Stark, POV Rhaegar Targaryen, Post-Betrayal, Post-Canon Fix-It, Prophecy, Queen Elia Martell, Queen Lyanna Stark, Rhaegar Targaryen Lives, Rhaegar loves Elia and Lyanna, and she is on the hunt for a Crown Prince, beginning of JonSa if you squint, died...Ned is a widower, not Rhaegar and Lyanna friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:19:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22437817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wintercameandwent/pseuds/Wintercameandwent
Summary: Elia's coronation and Daenerys wedding herald changes for King Rhaegar and his family. These happy occasions will resurrect old ghost that will lurk around the corners of both events, and ultimately threaten to plague the futures of their children.
Relationships: Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen
Series: Living with Regret of the Chance Not Taken [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591549
Comments: 63
Kudos: 89
Collections: Southern Renaissance (Dorne Renaissance)





	1. The Sweetness in a Bitter Fruit

**Author's Note:**

> Please keep in mind that each chapter is one character's POV, so the overall picture can seem unreliable. Remember these characters are flawed, but they are not inherently bad.

The day had finally arrived. Her dearest Daenerys was marrying her lord husband at the high alter of the Great Sept of Baelor. A betrothal spanning twenty years comes to a conclusion today and a new agreement will begin. 

When Lyanna Targaryen first met Daenerys, the squalling infant quieted once in her arms. Aside from her own babe, holding Dany and stopping her unhappiness felt like a small triumph, and Lyanna had needed that since at that time every action she made was met with hostile judgement. 

The time after the war had been brutal on her young woman’s mind and heart. While she knows she made some poor choices, she also is acutely aware of how she has paid for them...a cost that is never ending. She was still a person, and the sharp looks and even sharper tongues tore her apart. But Dany in that one moment made Lyanna feel like there was hope for her, and though she might be hated by most...there was a chance she wouldn’t be hated by all.

Shortly after her first name day, Rhaegar announced the betrothal and Lyanna felt that fragile grip she had on something good slip away. For how could Daenerys still love her once she discovered that she had already incurred a debt that needed to be repay...not for her own actions, but rather a cost for the choices Lyanna and Rhaegar had made. Angered at her husband and King, she rallied against his decision.

“How could you, Rhaegar?” Lyanna voiced her shock...the disbelief contorting her youthful face as she slid off the bed and away from her husband. 

“I would love to give my sister the opportunity to choose, to be courted by the best the realm has to offer, and for her to choose the one she desires the most. That is not to be her fate. It can’t. It was not an easy choice, Lya, but it is the one I must make.”

“NO! No, you don’t have to make that choice. Do you need a reminder _husband_ that my father once made a similar choice? Can’t you see how well that turned out?”

“Yes, your Father made a choice and you decided to rebelled against it. You chose me. You did. I was your choice. How did that turn out Lya? Can you honestly say you are happy with your selection? Happy with our life the way it stands...ghost and all, our past and future lined with tragedy, deceit, and betrayal. You speak as though having a choice was a better alternative than marrying who your father expected. I love you Lya, but our story is a good tale on how that option should be avoided.”

“So, are you telling me that had Jaehaerys was born a girl that you would choose their husband?”

“Yes, and at risk of alienating you further from me, should we have a daughter I may need to do it for her as well.”

“What? Why? You said the prophecy required three-heads...a rebirth of Aegon the Conqueror. All of this was needed to battle what danger was to come.”

“Lya. I already had two-heads...if the prophecy was to be filled through my line then Jae would have been born a Visenya...and he wasn’t. It is not my line, Love. I doubt we would ever have a daughter, but if we did she would be only one, as I no longer think the prophecy applies to me.”

“You can’t make such a rash decision, Rhaegar. If our next child is a girl then our third child could be a girl as well. The prophecy could still come to pass.”

“That doesn’t seem right Lya. I had two-heads...”

Feeling frustrated by his insistence that they were wrong without considering an alternative pathway of logic, Lyanna let out a huff of exasperation. “But maybe the Gods didn’t think you had the right ones. Fire and Ice...that is what we are, what our children would be. Perhaps the Gods knew all three need to be of fire and ice, and cast a harsh fate to make it so.”

Rhaegar balked as though she had struck him a physical blow. “So, the death of my wife and my children was the Gods best plan for bringing us together. Their suffering and loss was necessary for us to be.”

“Rhaegar, Love, I know it sounds cruel...”

“It doesn’t sound Lyanna. It is cruel. There are gentler paths the Gods could have taken. Have you ever considered that the reason why it has been so hard for us to make this prophecy work is that perhaps it was not for us? That everything we have done or caused was for naught.”

“For naught...are you saying you don’t love me?”

“I do love you, Lya, but the destruction we cause does not make us excused by it. I loved the girl I imagined you to be. I am falling in love with the woman who stands beside me, when I know the pressures want to make you hide. Even with my love for you and how it has changed and grown, I had a life before you and I. I had love...it was good...my marriage, my family. It's only now that we are together that I can mourn what we could never have had if we didn’t run away. But if we had never left, then I would never had known what we would have been...there would have been nothing to grieve in regards to us, and Elia and the children could still be alive.”

“Or not Rhaegar. The Gods can be cruel. It may seem needlessly so, but it doesn’t mean it was not their intent from the start.” Their experience has taught Lyanna that the Gods are not always kind, and to discount the lengths they will go to secure their plans is reckless on their part.

“I guess your Gods and mine will have to disagree, Lyanna. It would behoove you moving forward to keep this particular idea to yourself. I doubt many about the Keep will agree with your opinion. Gods know I don’t.”

Rhaegar stormed out of her chamber, and he had not returned for many moons. She was stunned by how harshly he had boxed up his affections for her. He spoke to her about the Keep, her day...his, their son, his siblings, his mother, and any other topic that was not associated with the prophecy. It took many attempts at apology when she realized how unfeeling her words were at the time. She knew he was still mourning, but he made an effort to keep those feelings concealed from her, that she hadn’t considered his ghost before she spoke. She had been thoughtless an unintentionally brutal.

At that time, Lyanna thought of all the ways Daenerys would consider her a hypocrite for being made to marry a man when Lyanna chose her own husband. Rhaegar was wrong. Her point wasn’t that they made a mess of it all, the point was they still got to decide...and now they must stand by their choices. That is all she wants for Daenerys...for anyone. As she and her husband reconciled, she found him unmoved on this point.

Lyanna found herself compelled to speak with Rhaella regarding her only daughter’s fate.

“I find myself in the position having to apologize for Daenerys’s situation.”

“Her situation? Is there an issue I am unaware of?”

“Rhaegar told me he has spoken with you about the betrothal between Daenerys and Renly Baratheon.”

“Ah, yes. They are too be married when she is of age.”

“It is for that which I’ve come to apologize for.”

Rhaella tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing, pursing her lips before speaking. “I am still not sure of your reason, Lyanna. Women are betrothed all the time. It is the way our world works...always has. Betrothals are not uncommon; they are the normative. My daughter would have had an arranged marriage regardless, just as mine was determined for me. Not only is it the way for most women, but it is absolutely the way for a high-born woman...especially a princess.”

“But Rhaegar has only agreed to this arrangement to lessen the insult to the Stormlord’s while trying not to destroy a House for actions which were set into motion by factors not of their own making...but rather created by our decision to break faith from our commitments in order to be together. It is his attempt at compromise. All at your daughter’s expense. She is paying a price for us and that is not fair.”

A bitter smile marked Rhaella’s expression. 

“ _Fair_. Oh, Lyanna you have the body of a woman but a childlike view of how the world truly functions. What is _fair_? What does that mean? What does it look like to you? You and my son did as you pleased and while you found the result of being together as _fair_ , I ask how was that _fair_ to everyone else? What was fair to Elia and her children? Do you think Elia’s brothers think their death was _fair_ or do I or Viserys? Was it _fair_ to me when my husband demanded my attention after he murdered your family? Was it _fair_ to your brother and your father to die thinking they came to demand honor for the Winter Rose of their House?"

Rhaella shook her head in dismay as she continued. "Do you think your surviving brothers think it _fair_ one now stands in the place of a dead brother who by all rights should be the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, while the other freezes at the Wall? Is Lord Baratheon’s death _fair_ because you did not want him? Does Stannis’s and Renly’s fates seem _fair_ , one an honorable young man made to live the rest of his life as a traitor in the Nights Watch and a boy forced to live among strangers loyal to the man who killed his oldest brother? The Eyrie lost their Lord and his heir...a family line that had survived for millennial...gone. Do you see that as _fair_? I can go on Lyanna. There will be more opportunity for us to be sliced and portioned off in a myriad of ways to be given to different Houses to appease or praise. You best harden yourself to the knowledge for there is nothing you can do to stop it. This is the way our world works.”

Lyanna sat with her good-mother in tensed silence. She was learning that every request for help or support always required some kind of payment. It seems the art was determining how little payment you could get by making; without losing your pot. But then there are times when the only thing you can do is place a more valuable object on the table to secure an agreement. Daenerys was the valuable object to be played, and Lyanna was angry at Rhaegar...and at herself for that. It did not help when she learned of Viserys’s betrothal...or the political match for Jaehaerys. 

If she could not stop it, then she wanted Dany to know her fate, but also to know the boy...who is now a man. She also advocated that Dany marry when she was older than sixteen...and that she must get to know the man...truly know him and he her. She wanted that for Jayne as well. It was a fight, but Rhaegar had eventually agreed on the idea for Dany and not Jayne. It was all she could do, and while her good-sisters love the men they are bound too, Lyanna still carries remorse. 

A knock at the door of her outer chamber returns her attentions to the present. Her maids have come to ready her bath. The start of her preparation for the day. A day that will end with seeing her treasured good-sister wedded, and leaving shortly thereafter to her new home.

*****

The castle was buzzing with activity. While normal for the Keep to be filled with people this level of momentum is rarely seen, but the coronation of Queen Elia brought every House and their vassals to Kings Landing. The attendance of the Lords and Ladies had been larger than seen in previous years tourneys or celebration feast.

After the coronation, everyone continued to remain for Princess Daenerys nuptials...and if she would allow it...many remain to witness the interaction of their King with his two wives. 

From the start Rhaegar made it clear to both her and Elia that he had no intention of entertaining dissention within their family, that they needed to remain vigilant to the cause of stopping any stirrings of rebellion within their children. He would not stand for another Dance. He would not. 

Lyanna found she agreed to a certain degree. She didn’t want her children to fight a war. The devastation laid at the feet of those that were to survive was too high a price...at least if the price to be paid is to determine who sits on the damn throne. That was not a cause she was willing to lose any of her sons to and therefore thought no other mother should have too as well. Though it does pain her to see her son removed from his place as the Crown Prince. Another slice, this time her child’s place of honor, was given to Elia’s Aegon. 

What she does disagree with is how they could make their children _not feel_. The changes he wrought upon them, when he asked his Dornish wife and children to return, are not ones to consider lightly. They are huge and altering to one's identity. Isn’t that how she feels about the return of Elia? Where is her place? How will her life change? All those questions bring feelings, and that is as natural as a summer storm over the Blackwater Bay. There is nothing you can do about it. Unfortunately, feelings result in acts, and it is there that the three of them agreed required the utmost vigilance and care. 

Looking at her reflection before leaving her own chambers, Lyanna observes the changes to her appearance as she has grown older. Gone was the young woman who lived in leathers and rode and fought with the freedom of a boy. Now she is older, and while still a little wild...her _wildness_ has shaped itself into an intensity carved out by her role as a mother, wife, and queen. Calculated rather than impulsive. She has found respect in the idea. To be calculated is a strength, to see all the possibilities before you and acting on the best course of action. She has learned to embraced the world intentions in relation to herself...a skill Rhaella said a good Queen should have. It’s an aptitude and how its wielded determines whether it is good or bad. Lyanna likes to think she uses it as the situations call for. 

Standing tall, she notes the way the gown falls on her body. Blue and silver, colors she took as her own since she found it difficult to wear the colors that once represented the House she was born into. An inner dress in dark blue with a silver lace overdress. She had selected a three-quarter length sleeve, with the entire lace outer-dress meticulously stitched and embroidered, cinched together with a belt tied at her trim waist. Her favorite crown placed carefully on a head of thick dark hair that has been twisted, curled, and pinned at the base of her head...creating her signature style. 

As Lyanna walked to her husband’s chambers she thought about her sons and how they have changed in the recent months. 

Jaehaerys has always been a serious young man and that has not changed much. He was initially hurt by his father’s displacement, though he makes it a point to not disclose that information to his Rhaegar or to anyone who could share his true feelings with his sire. While the life of a King was not something Jae wanted, for that she knows, he did prepare for the role his entire life. Now he no longer needs to follow that path, so what is left for him now. She sees him spending his days teaching Aegon what he needs to know about being the Crown Prince, like a shadow he follows. For a man who can easily disappear in his ruminations, she fears for her son who seems untethered regarding the fate of his future. What is his purpose now that he is not the Crown Prince? In what way will he now be cut and portioned to the realm? She sees him spending a lot of attention on her niece, Sansa Stark, but she is not sure he should look North for a match. Her son should stay away, for she does not think the Northerners would appreciate another Targaryen claiming another beloved Winter Rose for themselves. 

Daeron seems to reveal very little about his true feelings. On the surface he seems to have found commonality with Rhaegar and Elia’s daughter, Visenya, and Lyanna believes those feeling are genuine...as her son has little patience for subterfuge. As the third son of a King, his prospects were always more elusive and open in ways Jae’s life was not...until now. But now that Daeron is a fourth son he too has depreciated in value. She sees her young son trying to find his path, and the more she considers the more she thinks his path will take him away from her and their home. Lyanna tries not to grieve that possibility. Isn’t what third and fourth sons do? They find a place in the world away from their home. 

While Daeron’s future flutters through her mind, it is Aemon that brings her the most trouble. Her second child, middle-born, always seemed closer to her. At times Lyanna wonders if it was a reality she made real by her mothering or if they just have a natural affinity for each other. The mother in her leans towards the latter. Aemon was always the child who was attentive to her moods...always watching...always thoughtful. Knowing this about her son, Lyanna made it a point to protect him from her dispositions because she never wanted her son to be swayed by them. He is not like Jaehaerys or Daeron, who while they love her could be independent in their thoughts separate from her. 

She has learned as a parent that differences and resistance to her mother’s-sway lessened as her son’s became men, but with Aemon it didn’t lessen as much as found a settled comfort that they both enjoyed. It’s a dangerous place to be, for he excuses her fault just as she find excuses for his. Until recently, this way of being impacted very little. But in the times they live in, with the uncertainty before them...this behavior has the potential to be destructive...as Aemon carries much animosity towards Elia and her children, and very little for his father. 

On those points she is not entirely sure where she lands, while she has absolutely no ill-will towards Rhaegar and Elia’s children for surviving, Lyanna can admit she hold hostility towards Elia and bitterness towards her husband. 

Quite aware that most, if not all, of the realm would tell her that she should not dare hold such feelings towards her sister-wife, Lyanna still does. She had never harbored these feelings before. When she and Rhaegar decided to marry and attempted to fulfill the prophecy, she knew that the hostility would come from Elia...as she usurped her husband and in doing so became a part of Rhaegar’s shaming of her. But then she returned to a kingdom that had lost that princess. Lyanna made a life out of the wreckage, and long ago resigned herself to the knowledge that her story would be blemished for the entirety of her life...that included the acceptance of Elia’s death. Now it turns out the woman lives, and the guilt and shame for causing her death was for nothing because she had never died. While she admits the atonement due to Elia for the horror she survived would always remain, allowing someone to needlessly accept accountability for another’s death is a cruelty that is unforgivable to Lyanna. Now she watches as that same woman walked about her Keep, sharing her Queen’s power, being given a voice on politics...having her husband’s... _their husband’s_ ear, and his attentions.

As for Rhaegar she sees how he pushes to include Elia, as though she had always belonged in this new world they had to forge...together. Even as he pushes, he is guarded...and it angers Lyanna so that he is not listening to his intuition which tells him to be on guard with Elia. This makes her feel bitter towards him, and he is aware of it, and yet it does not move him to hold Elia at a distance. Though the woman in question tends to keep Rhaegar at arm’s length. 

Lyanna raises her hand to her husband’s door. Her graceful hand rest on the warm wood, she takes a deep breath, ignoring the two King’s guard who were discreetly watching her. Still with all these varied feelings that conflict in some way, Lyanna keeps her true feelings hidden from those who should not see. In truth, the only person who has seen her true feelings has been Rhaegar when the emotions can no longer remain settled. While her mind tells her, she has little rights to complain about the changes to their lives, she just _cannot make herself_ feel differently. 

Just as she is about to knock on the door she hears her voice. _Elia_. It seems her counterpart was already in Rhaegar’s chamber. In the three moons they have been together, Lyanna has yet to be alone with Elia. They have spent time together with Rhaegar, actually they have spent a lot of time together with Rhaegar for the man is determined that Elia is privy to the same information Lyanna currently has...a united front Rhaegar calls it. 

When she questioned the wisdom of giving Elia too much access too soon, he simple replied, “Lyanna, if she knows what we do...who we trust and who we don’t, and the reasons why, then it becomes increasingly harder for those to break us any further.”

But Rhaegar you do not know where her heart lies. I would caution you, Love. I know you want her to come back... _to be back_...but you don’t really know if this is true. You could be opening us to more damage by revealing too much too soon.” 

“You are not wrong to have your suspicions, Lyanna, but I do not think after everything she survived that she would take the chance of letting it occur again. For what...I do not say these next words to pain you, but only as a logical argument...her son will be Crown Prince and King after me. Elia has very little need to dispose of me, all she needs is for me to bide my time. Do not look at me like that! It is not ego that makes me speak, but displacing me sets this nation into chaos...war. Elia would not want that for Aegon or our daughters...she wouldn’t want it for anyone’s children, even ours, just as you would not.” 

Lyanna had thought of her own network of information, and trusted that. Unfortunately, nothing came back to her to spark actionable suspicion, so she decided to follow her husband’s lead while keeping her own ear to the walls, ground, and sky. 

Coming back to the present, never has Lyanna come to Rhaegar’s chambers in the morning to find Elia there. He has always met her in his King’s solar or a neutral space, but never his chambers. Lyanna didn’t want to think what hearing Elia’s voice coming from this room meant. Lyanna could feel the uncomfortable tension coming from her guards. She tried not to think about them...together. 

Word had been undecided on whether the King had resumed bedding his first wife, and if she were forthright she doesn’t really want that answer. Not now, not yet. So, she and her husband keep to the arrangement they’ve always had when they returned to the Keep so many years ago....three nights with her and four on his own. Now that Elia has returned it would be best if Lyanna stayed away from his chamber’s on mornings when he doesn’t spend the night with her the eve before. 

Deciding to walk away, she turns to the brides chamber instead of Rhaegar’s. She offers the guards a small beatific smile. All she can do is try to control her reactions, which is a necessity when one lives at Court. The predators that smile and simper before them in an effort to gain their trust can smell the ruling family is wounded. While not mortally, there is potential for it to grow so if they are not watchful...so masking is the only option for them all. In that regard, she is not alone. 

****

Entering Daenerys rooms, Lyanna excused the ladies and maids, finding she and her dear good-sister alone. Hands outstretched; she walks briskly towards the radiant bride.

“Oh, sweet Daenerys. You look absolutely beautiful.” Lyanna couldn’t help the smile that broke out, leaving her recent thoughts in the wind...for now. From the loveliness of her curled and artfully adorned silver-blond hair to the brilliant silver dress which accentuates the bride’s figure, with delicate lace and intricate beading reflected throughout the gown, her house cloak draped carefully over her divan.

“Do I look alright? I feel like something is amiss. I’ve gone over everything with Mother, and I have been assured by everyone that all is accounted for and well.” Daenerys words rushed out as she brought Lyanna’s hands to her chest. 

Lyanna tried to think about her own wedding...her first wedding on the Isle of Faces under the weirwood tree...and not the farce she underwent shortly after the rebellion. She remembered being full of so many completing emotions that it was hard to be present in the moment...until it was just her and Rhaegar before the tree...septon and Kingsguard all but forgotten. All she could see was Rhaegar and all she felt was joy and happiness.

Though the other fears returned after the heighten moment had passed, and they came back with a vengeance. But Dany has nothing to fear in that regards, she hasn’t runaway and isn’t marrying a man who is married to another. This is an honest match...a match of two people who know each other...and care deeply for each other. Looking to reassure Daenerys to squeezes the younger woman’s hand gently.

“They are right. You have nothing to fear. I have it on good authority that your mother and I have gone over any and all details of this ceremony and feast. Nothing is amiss, my Dear. Rest those fears for they do not deserve a moment of your thoughts. This is a wonderful day, Dany. Just enjoy every moment of it. You are marrying a man who brings you happiness, yes?”

Daenerys released a deep trembled breath. Her striking violet eyes meeting hers a look of relief and trust in her eyes, and in that moment Lyanna pushed aside the grieved loss of never having this moment with her own daughter...of never having a daughter with Rhaegar’s colors. Though she has a mother of her own, Lyanna can admit to herself that Dany is the daughter of her heart. This moment would have to do.

“Renly does make me happy. He’s quiet but he is thoughtful. He makes me laugh and finds ways to always keep my attention. There is also a sadness about him. I truly think he feels alone in the world without a family...but I can give that to him. I want to give that to him and have that with him.”

Lyanna kept a genuine smile on her face, but her heart skipped at hearing Daenerys say that Renly feels alone without his family. Pebbles of guilt always find their way to make themselves known, even on the happiest of occasions. 

“If that is what you want, then if the Gods are good you both shall have it. Your brother is the King after all, and you are his beloved sister, no one would dare stand in his way of ensuring your happiness.” Lyanna quipped, trying to bring a little levity to the moment. 

Daenerys embraces Lyanna, both women holding each other with equal affection. “I do not think he is alone in that. I am sure you have some part in it as well.”

The desire to cry has pierced through Lyanna’s resolve, and as she pulls away from the young woman they both reach for their handkerchiefs in an attempt to blot away any tears that intend to fall.

A knock at the door turns their head, as the guard at the announces Rhaegar presence. Her husband looks strapping in his formalwear, his royal House cloak draped over his broad shoulders. Since he looked pristinely put together, Lyanna liked to think that all he had with Elia in his chambers was just conversation and nothing more. Again, she is aware of how foolish her jealousy is, but she can’t control her feelings...only her reactions. 

“My Queen, my Princess. Your carriage awaits.” Rhaegar made a grand show of reaching out for his sister’s hand. 

“Yes, your Grace.” Daenerys put her small delicate hand into her brothers, he brought said hand to his lip as she dipped gracefully...and once again Lyanna heart clenches at the thought of the daughter they never had. Standing together, the three of them, looking like a bride with her parents. All she sees is the little girl who would sneak into the King’s solar or Throne room, or the young child who would perch herself near Rhaegar to listen to a story or a song...a girl who looked adoringly at a man who loved her.

Long ago she released the idea of having a girl for the prophecy, but she can admit feeling sad about missing the opportunity to be a mother to a daughter. As she watched Rhaella and Daenerys, and now Elia with her daughters, she knows that no matter how much she loves her sons and Dany...not having a mother-daughter relationship of her own wounds her deeply.

Another announcement at the door alerted them to Rhaella’s presence. Lyanna thought it a sign from some deity that she should be on her way as well. Placing one last kiss on Daenerys cheek, a supportive hand on her husband’s arm, and gentle squeeze to Rhaella’s hand...she walked toward the door. Lyanna left the room leaving Rhaella and Rhaegar the private moment of placing Dany’s Targaryen House cloak over her shoulders for the final time.

Lyanna's tiara and dress

  
  


Dany's dress


	2. Trying Not to Lose What You Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Rhaegar Targaryen never thought of himself as a person who sought out conflict. He may discover that moments of conflict arose during any and all endeavors he has undertaken both as the Crown Prince and then as King. As it stands, his life is currently riddled with conflict. It can be seen between him and his wives, his wives with each other, his siblings, and his children. At this point the only person in his family, who he is not in conflict with is his mother. 

The latest challenge standing before Rhaegar has been his wives refusal to be alone with each other. As they have returned to the Keep, he has resumed his duties as only so much could be done by his Hand, and Lyanna has returned to her duties with Elia is tow as she shadows Lyanna performing her tasks, activities that will be required of Elia as she stands as Queen in her own right.

As of now she is still technically only a Princess...her coronation only days away. Part of his wives duties will overlap or require the women to discuss matters between them, but they refuse to be without another person in the room. At this point his mother has been such a person, but as she has told him numerous times in the last moon, her presence is not a long-term solution to his wives seemingly persistent estrangement. 

Currently he is listening to the Hand of the King, Jon Connington, speak about the latest issue between the two women. 

“It seems Princess Elia has refused to allow Queen Lyanna a preview of her coronation gown. The Princess has told her it is a hand-painted dress by a Westerosi artist that embodies the style of Dorne in her House colors...and that is all. She refuses to let the Queen see it.”

“A gown. You bring my attention to a gown.” Rhaegar rubs his hand against his forehead, a deep sigh leaves his body. “Why does Lyanna need to see it? Her issue seems unclear to me.”

“The Queen has a reasonable concern. Rhaegar, a Princess of Dorne will be crowned Queen of the Six Kingdoms. She no longer represents one of the seven kingdoms; she represents a different realm. Everything about how she is dressed will be dissected and interpreted, then word will spread. Queen Lyanna is right to want to know what the royal family is walking into on that day.”

“I am not dense about the matter, Jon, nor do I appreciate your underhanded insinuation that I am. You and the Queen Mother have been the primary planners of this event. Has no one seen this dress? My understanding is Elia had a dressmaker brought in and a design was agreed upon. Why are Lyanna’s concerns, days before the coronation, now an issue?”

“The Queen Mother was there for the initial meeting and fittings. She has seen the gown...”

“Then what is the issue. Do you need me to tell my wife to leave this matter alone? I have spoken to her about her participation. Perhaps she requires a reminder. Is that what you require? Done. I will speak with Queen Lyanna this evening.”

“Rhaegar, the fact that Elia won’t let anyone other than your mother see it is a cause for concern to some on the council.”

“Jon do you remember my coronation. I don’t remember Lyanna’s dress being brought to me then. If my memory serves, and it does, you and my mother were also responsible then for the arrangements of the ceremony. I trust my mother and I trust you. Now if you do not require me to address this issue with Lyanna then let’s proceed with the next item on your agenda.”

Hoping Jon caught on to his desire to move away from the topic, Rhaegar said a small prayer and waited to hear the next conflict he was expected to mediate.

*****

When the day of Elia’s coronation arrived, the morning preparation was slightly different from his own coronation, for on his day he did not walk alone into the Sept of Baelor. While he was crowned first, Lyanna was near, and shortly after he placed her silver crown that held delicate flowers with blue gems on her head, eternally crowned the Winter Rose. At first he thought it tactless in using such symbols and colors, but his mother made it clear that the realm would not forget and for many the stories of _their great love_ will forever be sung...no matter how little accuracy the story had to reality.

_“Use the stories and songs to your advantage, Rhaegar. Don’t forget your past. Your people won’t. Regardless if what they believe is true or not.”_

That is what Rhaegar did when he commissioned Elia’s crown. He used her story, their story...or rather the account the realm said was truth. The stories about Elia’s return were vast and plentiful. The most famous one sung from court to campfire was called the Return of the Last Dragon’s Missing Heart. 

_The tale spoke of the eternal love between the daughter of the sun and the Dragon Prince. The Dragon Prince was a rare dragon...one with two hearts. He was strongest when both his hearts were bound to him._

_The daughter of the Sun was the half of his heart that controlled passion and anger, the part that could scorch the world in its wake. The daughter of Winter owned the half that was ruled by desire and ruthlessness, stealing away the warmth from the living. But together, they made the Dragon Prince the most powerful being to rule the lands._

_The Sun Daughter birthed him two sun dragons, with shells as vibrant as the sun herself. When the Dragon Prince had found his second heart in the daughter of Winter, a war began at the behest of the Dragon Prince’s father. The King was scared of his son’s newfound base of power. When the Dragon Prince was away, danger found his Sun Princess, and the Sun’s daughter begged the Sun to save her and her children. The Sun answered her prayers. However, when the Sun came it blinded them all, even the Dragon Prince who then became the Last Dragon, and for years the Last Dragon lived without half a soul._

_While the kingdom thought them gone, the Last Dragon had a family with his Winter Queen, and their rule was suitable to the people...a reign chilled by logic and reason. Though the Sun’s daughter had not been forgotten, they say their love was so powerful that during their separation he wished to have another child with her, and she gave birth another sun dragon safe in the home of her mother._

_When the sun’s rays dimmed, and sight was restored, the Last Dragon found the Sun Daughter and made her his Queen, returning her and their children back into his heart and hearth. With his Sun Queen, and his Winter Queen, and their children by his side...the Last Dragon was no longer the last, and the realm now waited for the magic of six young dragons to rise again._

A romanticized idea of their reunion, Rhaegar thought, for reality was not that one-dimensional. With a combination of legend and Rhaegar’s personal truth, he had two crowns made for her. 

One is a simple crown that she could wear as often as she liked, it was made of gold with small pink coral stones around the bottom band and a larger corals of the same color on top, connected together by a fine delicate lattice pattern. The colors made him think of the color of the Dornish sky as the sun would set in the evenings. A sky he had grew to know well during the moons he waited to see her when they were in Dorne. The crown would serve as a reminder for her of her homeland, and for him the place where he she hid from him, and would return to again should he misstep in the future. 

The second crown, the formal one he would bestow on her today, was a bit more...lavish. Elia was and still remains, a woman who enjoy using her clothes and colors to make a statement...and her jewelry always accentuated her look. So, when he thought of her formal crown, he wanted a piece that would not be the focal piece, for that would not be what she would have chosen for herself. Keeping this idea in mind, he designed something that told those who saw it where she stood in his estimation as wife and as queen. 

Rhaegar opted for a white gold crown, with a wide face that was shaped into a soft triangular curve, diamonds decorated the sprouted leaves in groups of four that were separated by circular diamonds, served as the border of the piece. It made him think of the lemon trees that surrounded Lemonwood. 

The face of the crown itself once again had a lattice arrangement that crisscrossed, with each cross connected by a small and simple four-petal diamond flower pattern. This made him think of the mosaic tiles found at Water Gardens...a place she had once said held so many of her happiest memories. 

He had one diamond crusted wreaths placed in the center of the crown with an oval orange sapphire, a rare gem which is only found in Dorne, with two smaller wreaths with the same jewel on either side. The diamonds shone like the sun when exposed to natural light, but the sapphires...the three that represented the sun dragons she had given him...they were all one could see.

His mother and his daughters were the only one to have seen the crown. His mother because she knew Elia as she once was and who she is now, she also understand the political implications of such a symbol. He included their daughters to gauge if he had added enough of their mother into the item. It was important to Rhaegar that Elia identify with this piece...because if she did then maybe that meant he had a better understanding of this wife who was at most times was a mystery to him. 

As Rhaegar held the crown in his hands, he imagined standing before her, saying the words that would tie them together once again. He rubs his thumb against one of the orange jewels and thinks of the woman he will give this to, and it feels right. He places the crown back into the chest, and makes his way out of his chambers and to Elia’s with a small token to commemorate the day.

*****

“Father you cannot be in here.” Visenya yells as she jumps up from the divan she was seated on, running to the door to block his entrance into Elia’s outer chamber.

“Pray tell, why not?” Trying not to be offended. In the several moons they have been together, Elia has relented enough to allow Rhaegar access into her rooms when she is present. He does not deny himself the opportunity on her nights. They talk...a lot, from the early evenings till twilight makes an appearance. There is much he has learned about Elia during their separation and much he is sure that she has learned about him. A lot of it has been hard to hear, but it necessary to be said. 

“You can’t see mother yet?” Rhaenys answered from her mother’s bedchamber door. “She is dressing.”

“I can wait in the solar with Visenya. Your mother is safe from me. I can wait till she is dressed.” Rhaegar is always a bit surprised by how strong his youngest daughter is. The door has moved very little. Rhaegar takes in his daughter’s gowns. Rhaenys is wearing a gold and dark red tiered dress while Visenya wore red tiered gown that seem to look like a sunset each tier changed color. Dragons...yet not only. They carry the sun with them. He is stunned that these beautiful and strong creatures come from his seed.

“Rhaegar.” Elia’s voice pulled his attention from their girls. She wore a red sheer dressing gown over a short yellow night dress, her long dark hair falling over one shoulder, her legs and feet exposed. She looked...lovely, _but not ready_. This just made him a bit more confused by everyone’s behavior. 

“Elia. I just wanted to see you before the ceremony. I have something for you.” He hikes a brow up in hopes she can pry their children away from the door. Sensing his issue, she turns her head but he can see her smile before she can control it.

“Girls, can you give your father and me a moment of privacy.”

Visenya releases the door as she and her sister walk into their mother’s bedchamber, closing the door as they depart. Rhaegar enters the room and gently closes the door behind him. He turns to Elia and sends her a doubtful smile. “They do know I am the King, yes?” His attempt at humor was a success, if her soft laugh was any indication.

“That they do, but I guess old habits die a hard death.”

Approving of that sentiment, as personal experience has taught him, Rhaegar nods in agreement. He stands before her; he sees the wariness that usually accompanies her expression in place and does his best to keep his disappointment out of his own visage. 

“As this is a momentous day, I thought it was deserving of a more personal token than a royal crown.” Rhaegar extended his palm out with a small box on top.

Elia looked at the gift, then she looked up at him, and back. Her eyes unsure...mixed with some other feeling he could not identify. Her long fingers plucked the box into her own palm. Opening the box, her quiet gasp tugged at his lips until he felt a small paint his face. Inside the box was an orange sapphire diamond encrusted ring.

“Rhaegar, this is beautiful. Where did you find this sapphire?” He watched as Elia pulled the ring out of the box. Elia placed the box on the table as she brought the ring closer to her for inspection. 

Clearing his throat, Rhaegar proceeded to explain. “I spoke with your brothers before I left Dorne. I explained what I wanted and why. What you hold in your hands in their contribution to this moment...to your day.” 

“Oh, this is beautiful craftsmanship. This was a thoughtful gesture, Rhaegar. I am touched...thank you.” Her eyes never left the ring. Rhaegar walked up to her and gently took the ring from between her thumb and forefinger. He raised her hand and slipped the ring on her finger. Elia’s eyes now watched his every move. His eyes trailed from her hand in his up to her face. He brought that hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss. 

“You are most welcome, my Dornish Queen.” Elia’s lips parted slightly and Rhaegar had to remind himself that the only item separating him and Elia from their daughters was a door. Both of them took a couple of steps away from each other. Rhaegar dismissed himself and exited Elia’s rooms, but before he did he looked back before sealing the door shut, and he was pleased to see a small smile on Elia’s lips as she stared at her ring.

*****

The sun was bright, casting a layer of light over the capital. Rhaegar walked into the sept with Lyanna by his side. He turned towards her, a soft smile with soft eyes met his, extending his arm she rested hers on his as they made their way to the altar before them. He could feel the eyes of the Lords and Ladies on their persons. The consideration, deliberation, and estimations they all made on the state of his marriage or the degrees of importance he places on his queens.

Once again Rhaegar is reminded again that the imbalance of judgement always falls harder on a woman. It fell on Elia, it fell on Lyanna, and seldom was he ever touched. He refused to let the realm think Lyanna was less, for she was not. She may not have been the woman he married first, the woman born to be a queen, but she had learned and proven herself. He would not add fuel to the fire...he would not add to her embarrassment.

She wore her blue rose crown, delicate flowers to frame the rare blue garnet gems that were chosen because of the hues of blue it encapsulates...just like the hues of a winter rose. She was dressed in a cerulean blue dress, with a high collar, a gown that is partial to the shape of her figure as it tapers at her waist. The dress gently widens as it makes its way down the length of her, stopping at the ground. A soft grey over dress that had detailed blue and white beaded embroidery on the front and sleeves, gave off the impression it was silver. Nine silver chains rest across her chest, the last 2 tapering in size, the look completed with a silver belt at her waist. Her formal gown in a style he has grown accustomed to...cool, feminine, yet strong...like the woman.

As he walks by Lord Eddard Stark and his family, the Lord keeps his head high, jaw clenched, but his eyes unseeing as the King and Queen pass him by. His eyes spy the foreign dignitaries in the audience, especially the Martells of Dorne. Rhaegar could just feel the slant of Doran and Oberyn’s eyes as he walked by with his wife. 

Looking forward he sees his family. His brother and sister sat with their spouses; Daenerys offered a supportive smile while Viserys’s smile released genuine happiness for the day. All his sons dressed in black and red formalwear with their house sigil embossed or embroidered on their clothing. His daughters wearing their red dresses with hints of Dorne about them. 

It was not lost on Rhaegar where people have publicly placed their alliance, and in all honesty he can’t say he blames his family for the stances they’ve made... but he does. His sons by Lyanna stood with his sister and her husband on the right side of the of the center aisle. His children with Elia stood to the left with his brother and his wife alongside his mother. Declaring to the realm that whatever harmony that had been seen, was superficial, with no hint of authenticity. Perhaps he is wrong, and the growth between some of his children was genuine. 

Rhaegar carefully deposited Lyanna beside their oldest son, squeezing her hand gently before placing hers into Jaehaerys’s. Her smile fortified; she offered a subtle nodded for him to go. He sent his son, a tactful look to take care of his mother. Jae nodded in understanding. Rhaegar turned to walk towards his place on the stage. 

The doors to the back of the sept had been closed as the High Septon began the ceremony. All waiting for the septon to say the words that would introduce the realm to their new queen, _“Come forth that who has been chosen by the Gods to serve as a Queen, for the chosen King, of our kingdom. Come say the words. Come take your place.”_

Once the High Septon had spoken, you could hear the sound of the doors opening to allow Elia entrance into the sept. All heads turned to see her, except for Rhaegar...all he needed to do was look straight ahead. There she stood, a silhouette with the sun to her back...the bards will say it was a sign of approval from her mother, the Sun. 

When she began her walk down the aisle to the front of the chamber, she looked luminous. It seems that Lyanna and Jon had cause to be concern, he would have to speak to his mother privately...but in sincerity he could acknowledge his wife’s message. 

Elia’s dress made her look as though she was consumed in fire and blood, and in all fairness to her journey to this moment, she had been. Set aflame by him and his betrayal of their vows, by Lyanna who chose to be with him, his father, the high Lords and Ladies of the realm...by all who made her doubt her worth. She birth children that could have killed her, survived a war, and made a life for herself without those who abandoned her to the flames. But fire cannot kill the Sun, no the sun is too hot for it will take the fire for its own, and have mercy on those in the aftermath. 

No, Elia wanted to make a statement. Let it never be forgotten that she may be Queen of the Six Kingdoms, but she is the daughter of the Sun, a daughter of Dorne, a descendent of the Great Meria Martell, and she would embody her House words.

All Rhaegar saw was her touched by fire and blood and all the reasons why, and he remembered a tale his mother once told him when he was a little boy. It was a story she had heard from Elia’s mother, when she served as one of Queen Rhaella’s Lady-in-Waiting, an account that spoke of Queen Rhaenys going to Dorne in an attempt to diplomatically absorb Dorne into their conquest. 

His mother whispered in his ear, _“Princess Meria had told Queen Rhaenys, “I will not fight you, nor will I knee to you. Dorne has no king. Tell your brother that.”_

_“Now Rhaenys, ever the ruthless diplomat ensure the Princess of Dorne of her return. “I shall, but we will come again, Princess, and the next time we shall come with fire and blood.”_

_“It seemed as the Princess was seemingly unimpressed, she told the Queen, “Your words. Ours are Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. You may burn us, my lady...but you will not bend us, break us, or make us bow. This is Dorne. You are not wanted here. Return at your peril.”_ [1]

As Elia made her way to the alter, her statement to him was clear...the same words a Martell once spoke to a Targaryen resurrected once again. He may have burned her, but he cannot bend her, break her, or make her bow. _She is Dorne._ He is not wanted...not as he once was welcomed before. Rhaegar made his choice like the Targaryen before...and he returned for her...at his own peril...leaving their story unfinished. 

Standing before him, she was _Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken_.

The ceremony continued. The words said. The Royal Cloak draped across her back. The time had come.

Now Rhaegar stood before her. Their eyes meeting...discretion in his, defiance in hers. She never averted her eyes and he held onto hers. This was their moment...one they should have had so many years ago. He took the crown and faced it towards her to see before he crowed her. Elia’s eyes widened a bit. She saw the stones of her home...and the recognition of the three sun dragons she brought into the world...or so he hoped that is what she saw. He could see her eyes begin to water, but no tears fell, a soft smile touched her lips. 

Rhaegar lifted the crown and placed it over her head and spoke the words that ended the coronation ceremony. 

“I graciously accept the one chosen by the Gods to be my Queen.” 

Extended his arm as he turned to the audience. She laid her arm over his. The applause from the audience was deafening. As much as Rhaegar wanted to be in the moment with her he knew he couldn’t. His eyes looking for threats and potential trouble set before him, for conflict is attracted to him. 

Lyanna seemed a bit detached but he does not blame her. Aemon and Daenerys shared looks between their bouts of clapping. His sun dragons seem to allow themselves revelry of the moment. The look Lord Stark sent Elia seemed remorseful which seemed to compliment her brothers concerned faces. 

Jon nodded from the doors of the sept, and Rhaegar began to walk down the aisle to introduce the people to their new Queen.

*****

During the feast that followed he had watched his Lyanna dance with their sons, even Aegon asked for her hand, to which she accepted. Various Lords and their sons asked for a dance as well as Arthur. Elia was treated to the same.

The glaring differences were seen in the brothers of the Queens. Lord Eddard Stark kept his distance while the Martell brothers couldn’t stay away. The looks the widower of Winterfell kept sending his Dornish wife had not helped. Lyanna had attempted to reach out, but Lord Stark found a courteous path to extricating himself from the conversation...and his sister presence. 

What also caught his attention was the number of dances the heir of Winterfell had with his oldest child. He was very aware of how long Jaehaerys had been gone with his cousin Sansa Stark, the young man requesting permission to take her to the rose garden for some air...roses being the young woman’s favorite flower. Nor did it escape his notice at how his youngest son kept gazing at Lady Eleanor Mooton or how she looked back. Visenya had accepted a number of dances from Ser Humfrey Hightower while declining the offers of dances from young men with higher ranking within their family...no a fourth son from a prominent house seems to have caught her eye. 

His middle children from both marriages gave him pause. Aemon made it a point to dance with all the lovely ladies, a skill that serves him well...as young women swoon and older women charmed. This personality might do his son’s future marital prospects ill, as his son is known for having an eye for beauty. It is Aegon that draws his consideration now. He has seen how forward Lady Margaery has been in securing his attention. A beautiful woman, well suited to the insanity of being a king’s wife...in his estimation, but his son seems polite, if uninterested. Rhaegar had hoped this was not the case for it would make his upcoming demand on his son easier, a demand he would not make until after Daenerys’s wedding. 

Lord Stark made his way to the dais, bowed as was appropriate, and turned towards Elia as he asked his wife for her hand in a dance. Those seat near had quieted to hear the exchange before them. Eyes hot and greedy as they searched for a morsel of gossip that would keep them satiated for the time being. 

Elia looked over at him, including Lyanna in her gaze, before returning her attention back to the Warden of the North. “If it would please you, my Lord.”

Standing to meet him at the end of the platform, Rhaegar watched one wife out of the corner of his eye as his she accepted Stark’s hand, and out of the other he saw his other wife drink her wine as though she had not just been overlooked and shelved by her own kin.

*****

A moon had passed and today he walked his only sister down the length of the sept on her wedding day. She looked stunning. Though he was happy that she found love in a match that was not her choice, he is aware that her happiness is a gift that no one was guaranteed. It helps to assuage his guilt.

He was unprepared for the discomfort in his heart at the act of handing her to another. His beloved sister. The girl who was willful and loyal...at times his staunches defender, present moment notwithstanding. As he places her hand into Renly, he sees the little girl who would run around the castle with Aemon on her heels. The child who made him flower crowns and insist that he write a song about her and Lyanna. So many memories of their time together ran in rapid succession through his mind, and suddenly Rhaegar paused, but Dany’s sunny smile allowed him to release his hold as he walked back towards his family. 

As his sister danced with her husband, Rhaegar thought of his cousins...those alive and those who were not. Renly was a good man. A bit serious, but then he had every reason to be. The only ones to pull a smile from him would be his new wife and his best friend, Loras Tyrell. 

Most days he regrets sending Stannis to the wall. The man did nothing but hold his home as he was told to do by his brother...his Liege Lord. It was not for him to judge those orders. He acted in loyalty and that should not have been punished as severely as he was...not after Robert died. 

Robert...his death is largely due to his and Lyanna’s decision to run away with each other, leaving Robert confused, angry, and targeted by his father simply because he was betrothed to Lyanna. What was Robert to do in the face of such discord and chaos. What kind of man would he have been seen as if he had he not fought? So, Robert did what he had to, he rose...for Lyanna, for himself, for his brother of choice...Eddard Stark, for the man who raised him but lost his heir, Jon Arryn. At that point, what did Robert have to lose? Gods, how Renly looks so much like him. The Baratheon traits are strong. He hopes he can give that branch of his family a chance to thrive once again. 

Dancing with Lyanna, he holds his wife close, perhaps closer than is appropriate...but their bodies seem to gravitate towards each other after so many years of intimacy. He smiles at those who are watching them, he sees Elia dancing with Lord Baelor Hightower, but his attention is split as once again his attention is drawn to his children. 

In the crowd of dancers on the floor, he sees Robb Stark and Rhaenys dancing. The young man’s eyes have not left his daughter’s face and she has yet to lose the shy smile on hers...the one that always appears when he is in her presence.

In the middle of a turn, Jaehaerys appears, as usual he is seated with his cousin, Sansa Stark. Both of them focused on some private conversation. His son ever cautious of propriety, but his eyes warm and hopeful always track the copper hair beauty...every hand gesture, turn of her head, quiet laugh.

Just as the dance requires him to change partners, Rhaegar catches Visenya in his sight. She is laughing at words recently spoken by Humfrey Hightower. Clearly enjoying the attentions of the young man, as he is probably telling her of his latest journey to Essos...a traveler like his own brother, Viserys. He does not miss how his usually confident daughter seems uncertain as she plays with a piece of her silver-blonde hair.

As the dance requires a bow before his partner, the move allows for him to tactfully find Dearon, and as expected he was walking towards Eleanor Mooton and her father. Words were said, and the blushing maid accepted my son’s extended arm. The look exchanged between Lord and Lady Mooton were not lost to Rhaegar. 

Returning his dancer back to her original partner, he accepts his wife back into the haven of his arms. It is Lyanna that finds Aemon. He discreetly observed his son flirting outrageously with Lord Addam and Lady Cersei Marbrand’s daughter, Myrcella. The young woman leaning into him, with a hand on his doublet...that she quickly removed as her eyes searched to see if perhaps anyone had witnessed their inappropriate affection. Clearly his wife had seen the same for she let out a huff of exaggerated breath. Knowing it shouldn’t, her reaction did loosen his lips into a settled smirk. 

“Don’t you dare smile Rhaegar Targaryen. That boy is outrageous.” Lyanna offered her diplomatic glare...the one that held only meaning for him. Part of their coded body language. 

“Well two out of three...” He smiled down at her. “One of them had to be extreme. Look at who his parents are.” He reasoned. His past is his, and all the decisions he made that led him to this moment. He laments much. Attempts to amend for what he can. The reality of his, or their past, will always remain. There is nothing to do with the past, but to acknowledge it, and brace yourself for what ripples from the past will bring the future.

Meanwhile as he spun his wife, he saw Aegon dancing with Margaery, his outward appearance looked very welcoming, but something seemed off to Rhaegar...something was amiss. 

“They look good together. Olenna seems very pleased by the idea of having her dear Margaery marry Aegon instead of Jaehaerys.” Lyanna’s voice was cautious as she shared her thoughts. 

“I imagine she is.” Rhaegar couldn’t help the insincerity in his tone.

Lyanna ever attuned to him, pursed her lips in an attempt not to smile. “Seems young Margaery is saddened by the loss of Jae, but Prince Aegon is most kind...and she is but a servant of the Crown. So, if you wish her to wed Aegon, then she will do as you ask.”

Rhaegar fought to roll his eyes, a behavior most unbecoming of a King, but so fitting to describe his feelings in that moment. “Clearly brokenhearted. How strong she is in the midst of her devastation. Queenly material, I am sure.”

Lyanna once again released a quiet exasperated huff. “Rhaegar! At some point we are going have to formally address this. I know you have hinted to Aegon, but you have yet to speak of it to Elia. This conversation can no longer be tabled. The Tyrells will only wait so long.” Her tone brook no argument where she stood on matters. 

“They will wait for as long as it takes.” Rhaegar could feel his eyes burning with indignation as he stared down at his wife. 

“Rheagar...temper, Love.” Her tone light as she gentle reminded them of their place. “They stood by us...you particularly. They helped us win. We owe them and they know it. The price is marriage into the royal family. Marriage between the Rose of Highgarden and a Dragon Prince was to be Jae’s price to pay, but now that Aegon has return...it would have been his burden to carry. One he would have grown into, like Dany. I wish he could have had that time to know her like Dany knows Renly. It just isn’t meant for him.” Her voice mournful as she reflected what he already knew.

“You have to speak to Elia soon, and as an incentive...if you do not speak to her by the end of the sennight, then I will tell her.” Her voice firm, yet acutely anxious. 

Rhaegar was shocked to be given an ultimatum by Lyanna. This is not how their marriage has worked. It is not a tactic they have ever used with each other in regards of how they chose to govern their marriage. “What?” Finding his bearings, Rhaegar continues, “I do not believe you. I am not trying to keep this from her. Do not paint it so. They have just returned. Can I not give them at least a year before the demands of their station...this demand of this station...comes and controls his life?”

A soft sigh escapes Lyanna’s lips. “Temper, Rhaegar. I applaud your consideration towards them, but the realm won’t give them that kindness. Do not let them be blinded, Rhaegar. It’s the worst part of betrayal, and they will not see your thoughtfulness in waiting as anything but. Elia will see you leaving them unprotected once again...especially when she learns that I am aware.”

“I just wanted to give them this calm before the storm. That is all.” His tone was somber, but he could not find it in himself to deny the wisdom in her words. 

“I know, Love.” Her eyes, always a raging storm, appeared just as downcast as her voice. A shared guilt rearing its vile head once again. 

“Tomorrow, after Dany departs for Storm’s End, I will speak with Elia and Aegon...formally.” He released a resigned sigh. Dreading the conversation before him. The beginning of many, he thinks. 

As the dance came to an end, his wife curtseyed before him. “Good man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Quote from GRRM’s The World of Ice & Fire, The Reign of the Dragons: The Conquest.
> 
> Elia's coronation dress  
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> Elia's coronation crown (Just imagine it with these orange sapphires)  
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> Rhaegar's gift  
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> Elia's other crown (worn at Dany's wedding)  
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> Elia's dress at Dany's wedding  
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> Lyanna's dress  
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> Lyanna's crown (Just substitute those sapphires for blue garnet)  
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> Rhaenys dress  
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> Visenya's dress  
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	3. Time Passes Even When One Stands Still

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Time has become a funny thing to Queen Elia Targaryen...Queen Elia...it still sounded wrong to her, but it is her reality. Back to her thoughts on time. When she first married into the royal family she found time moved slowly, especially when she was in the presence of King Aerys. After Rhaegar had left her, time seemed to stop moving. Once she was in Dorne, time moved so quickly...she healed, saw her children grow up good and strong...even witnessing one finding their first love as she found a love of her own, and even Rheagar’s return seemed so fast. Now she is back and there are times when time moves slowly, such as moments where she must be alone with Queen Lyanna, but then time will rush by when she must say good bye to her family as they return to Dorne. 

As she sit on a divan in Rhaegar’s chambers with Aegon seated beside her, both looking at the King, she thinks of the words he just spoke...betrothal. Once again time becomes a combination of halting and fleeting all in the same single space of time.

Elia looks to Aegon, cataloging his features. His face seems almost devoid of emotion with the exception of the flared nostrils...a tell he learned from Jaime. The only real clue one had that the unflappable man was angered. 

“You want me to marry Lady Margaery Tyrell.” Aegon’s tone was very...clipped.

“Yes. As I said it had been decided many years ago that the crown would honor a marriage between the Targaryens and the Tyrells. A betrothal was agreed to between the Crown Prince and a Lady from their house.” Rhaegar looked discomfited by the conversation, clearly not one he wanted to have with their son. Understandably so. It’s hard to tell someone you have made them a sacrifice for your selfishness and make it sound palatable. 

Shaking his head, as though to clear his thoughts, Aegon turned his gaze back to his father. “But until recently that was Jaehaerys. Why is he not expect to go through with the marriage?”

“You are the Crown Prince?” 

Her son stood up, surprising her a bit. “Does it say my name on the agreement or is it my title?” Aegon countered his voice beginning to rise in small increments.

“It is complicated Aegon. I understand this is hard for you to hear. But one of your duties as Crown Prince is to forge alliances, and we do this through marriage. I did it when I wedded your mother just as you will continue the tradition with your own marriage.” Rhaegar kept his temperament utterly calm. His tone matching his son’s.

As she sat there, she felt an overwhelming desire to stab the man in his black heart. 

“You are seriously going to bring up your reason for marrying my mother as a reason for this farce. How well did that alliance work for you father? How did the alliance work for my mother? How well did any of your marital alliances work for the betterment of the realm?” Aegon seethed and Elia raged silently with him. 

“My Prince, please do not forget you are not only addressing your father. He is still the King.” Lord Connington’s voice reminded Elia that her husband’s most devoted acolyte was there. 

Aegon kept looking at nothingness, his head shaking back and forth, her son’s first of many cuts his father is capable of. The death of 1,000 cuts, she thought. She had warned her children. Perhaps she should have taught them to hate their father...then Aegon would not be here in this moment. Elia closed her eyes and she tried to stop the tears that threaten to spill. The mother in her felt as if she had failed Aegon. 

“The Tyrell’s are willing to keep the upcoming marriage quiet for now, to give the Prince time to acclimate to his new role, but they require assurances that an announcement will be made in at least six moons.”

“I had thought I was just being courteous to a lady. I did not know that I was being groomed as her replacement Prince.” Aegon’s voice began to take a distant quality.

“Lady Margaery will make a fine Princess.” Rhaegar assured, his expression, countenance positioned to make their son believe his words by the sheer will of his opinion. 

“And eventually your Queen, my Prince.” Jon offered.

Silence. Not even breath could be heard. But then the dead cannot breathe and in that moment theirs was a death of sorts. A death of trust between a son and his father. A death of budding trust in an estranged marriage. Moons of talking deep into the night, and never did he mention this marriage alliance. Why Rhaegar? Why hide this from me for so long? 

“Did Jae know about this betrothal? I do not want to steal the woman he wants to marry from him.” Aegon turned to Jon, perhaps thinking he’d get a clearer answer. She must steer her son from that belief. Jon does what is best for Rhaegar...but sometimes one can get lucky. Seems like the Gods haven’t completely abandoned Aegon, not that there is much he can do in this moment. 

“He did know, but your brother has always liked the Stark girl and has started courting her, so I have no doubt he will support your union.” 

As soon as the words left his mouth Jon realized his folly. Rhaegar closed his eyes, sighing deeply before opening his eyes. Elia found herself not...surprised by this news. It answers why the young man in question spends so much time with Lady Stark. Now that he is no longer bound to Lady Tyrell, he is freer to follow his heart. A lucky young man indeed, Elia snarks, her level of petty anger is high. In truth she does not blame the young man. He think he is free and he is following his heart. Who does not want that choice? She targets her anger at Rhaegar, but wonders if her son has found another person to blame. 

Aegon’s jaw clenched, the words he spoke barely audible. “Well I guess there is not much to say now is there?”

Attempting to sooth their son from this crushing news, Rhaegar put his hand on Aegon’s shoulder, looking into their son’s eyes. “I wish this could be different, Aegon. It pains me to do this to you.”

Aegon glared at his father and Elia was amazed that Rhaegar did not catch fire from the flames sent his way. “If that is all, your Grace.”

Rhaegar flinched. He attempted to school the hurt expression on his face into a more neutral appearance. Their children did not make it a habit to call him “your Grace”, the term only used when formality was demanded. 

Stepping away from Aegon, he granted his leave. “You may go, my son.”

Aegon bowed to his father, then turned to her. 

“Mother.” His eyes were so painful to gaze into. The mother in her couldn’t help but hurt for her child, but she was his mother and she did not want him to compound his father’s mistakes with someone who is just as much a pawn. 

“Aegon.” She spoke to him in a language once thought dead...that of the Rhoynar. The language of the Orphans. “'aelam 'anak ghadibun. la takhudh ghadabuk ealaa 'akhik. 'iidha samahat.” [1] Roughly translated, _“I know you are angry. Do not take your anger out on your brother. If you please.”_

“nam.” Grateful he replied with a yes, she offered him a smile as he turned and walked away. 

“Well that went better than expected.” Jon offered after the echoing silence of Aegon’s departure became too uncomfortable for him. 

Rhaegar sent his friend an unsure look, “We’ll see. Just give him some space. It is not easy news to receive. He will come around...just give him time.” His eyes fleeted towards Elia.

“My Queen...” Rhaegar began, but she needed someone to leave and another person to come. 

Elia cut Rhaegar off, and shifted her seated position towards the Hand. “Lord Connington, would you please send for Queen Lyanna, and once she arrives allow us a moment of privacy.” Elia offered her most diplomatic smile, but what she really wanted was to flay this man alive. He made her feel so worthless when she was younger, and Rhaegar allowed it. Now the man has learned to school is features better and watches his words, but Elia knows he likes her even less than he did before. What he does not know is that she is no longer that woman...she will not play by the rules of men. There are so many ways for an older single man to catch an illness that might keep him indispose for a long time. An illness that cannot be explained. Elia has found it fascinating how some herbs and roots works in mysterious ways. 

Startled, he looked at Rhaegar for approval. Foolish man, she thought. 

“Elia, perhaps it is best that you and I speak. I know you are angry with me...” Rhaegar proceeded, but she refused to look at him, her eyes still on Connington. 

She leans forward a bit, as though she is telling a great jape, and says in a harsh whisper, _“Get me that damn woman or I will make the scene you are hoping to avoid.”_

Elia did not have to wait too long.

“My King. Queen Elia. I had a feeling you would be requesting my presence.” Lyanna sat on a chair beside Rhaegar. A unit, Elia thought. She expected to sense some type of satisfaction at her son’s predicament, but Lyanna did not seem to be joyful. In fact, the woman looked regretful. 

Once the door closed, Elia jumped up from her seat and poured herself a glass of dry Dornish wine, swallowing the entire content in one attempt. The settling of her goblet on the table was the only sound heard. 

“Elia, we don’t have another choice.” Rhaegar’s voice pulled at her to understand, but she couldn’t bend. 

“I am sorry as well, Elia.” Lyanna offered. “I am sorry that Dany had to marry Renly, that Viserys had to marry Jayne. While they are happy with their matches, I never wanted their fates to be so tied to mine. I wish it could be undone, but wishing won’t make it so.”

“There are choices and there are consequences that come with those choices.” Elia turned to Rhaegar. “You chose to make your prophecy fit you. When it didn’t work with me, you chose to complete with another. You chose to make these decisions in secret from me. You chose collusion with a woman who was not your wife. You chose to leave me and marry her. You chose to have a child with her.”

Elia turns her attention to Lyanna. “You chose not to do your own duty as a daughter...as a woman. You chose not to marry your betrothed. You chose to leave your family and marry my husband. You chose to bear him a child. You chose not to tell your family.”

She released a shaky breath before she continued. “You both chose those things, and because you did...” She pointed a finger and Lyanna. “Your brother came here to defend your honor.” Then he pointed the finger at Rhaegar. “Your father used him and those who came to support him as a hostage to get her father to come from the North.”

A sound of a wet sob rose, but it did not come from her. “Elia, please stop.” Rhaegar implored.

“No. I will not stop. Your father burned alive. Your brother made to strangle himself in an effort to try and save him...because his family meant something to him. It was worth saving, even if it meant a personal cost to himself.” Elia could barely feel the wetness on her face, but she could see the tears falling clearly trailing down Lyanna’s. Her angry gaze turned to Rhaegar.

“You did not inform your father of your whereabouts and he came for me. He came for my children. You did that. YOU!” She raged. “Your family was not worth saving, Rhaegar. Your family was not saving, Lyanna. That is what your choices meant to those you had forsaken. You cared for no one but yourselves, you thought of no one but one another. That is what brought the war, and everything that after. You and your choices. Now you tell me my son has to pay a direct price for it.”

Elia turned her back on them, the burning rage that stems from the day Rhaegar left her on Dragonstone all the way to this moment was a fury she consciously kept banked, and was now a powerful force she could not contain. Lifting her head, she let out scream so violent and thunderous she could feel the blood leeching down her throat, blinded by tears she could not stop the flood. The wave of all these emotions just overwhelmed her and there was nothing she could do to stop it. It had been so many years since she felts such a loss of control, and in those times, she had Jaime. 

Rhaegar ordered Arthur to leave as soon as he and the Kingsguard charged the room upon hearing the commotion. She could feel Rhaegar nearness, and hated herself for still being connected to him in that way. For this feeling is not to be trusted. Perhaps that is part of her problem, often times Rhaegar’s actions can be trusted...until a moment like this arises. 

Using her hands to wipe away the tears from her face, she slowly settled her hands over her mouth. Her harsh sobs slowing down until an occasional trembled breath remained. With a husky voice she asked, “Is this the only betrothal you owe?”

Rhaegar stood before her, his eyes red-rimmed meeting her own, his own face wet. “Yes. Viserys was for the Westerling’s help with Tywin. Daenerys’s was to appease the Stormlands. The title of Princess to the Tyrell’s for their men and supplies.”

“And the North, the Vale, the Riverlands? Did they want nothing from you?” Her eyes began to tear again as she tried to read every expression on his face for truthfulness. He reached his hand to cup her face, but she pulled away, a large tear slipped off her face and onto his hand. His eyes caught it as well, for he closed his eyes as he held on to the evidence of her wounded heart. 

“They want nothing, not from this crown. Well, except to be left alone.” Lyanna’s voice came from behind her...so soft...kin to a whisper. 

“Life is made of choices. We strive not to incur so much debt when we make them that we can’t pay them back on our own. You are both wrong though. There may not be anything you think you can do, but Aegon has a choice.”

“He cannot reject this marriage, Elia.”

“No, no, no, Rhaegar. He can. You said this marriage is between the Crown Prince and the Rose. If he steps down as Crown Prince, well then this marriage can return back to your own son. While a lovely young man, he still is the living; breathing result of your decisions. If anyone’s child should suffer that fate, shouldn’t it be one of yours.”

“Jaehaerys does not want the role. It would be a struggle for him. But Aegon...he was born for this, Elia.” Rhaegar’s hand reached out to touch her arm, bringing her closer to him. “I do not want him to step down. He would be a good and strong king. The kind the realm needs once I am gone.”

“Well you have some _choices_ to make don’t you? You can’t chose to marry and father children with another woman, becoming the fuel that started a war that shattered your people so badly that they are still trying to recover, keeping your title as King with your Northern Queen by your side, and expect that it would be my child that will pay the price in matrimony for those actions...to a young woman who is clearly looking out to raise her family’s standing... _her family_. My son knows he is more than a King’s son. Aegon will be fine if he walks away from his title. It is not his problem that the son you thought would be your Crown Prince was not “born” for it. You don’t get to have it all Rhaegar, not if you refuse to personally suffer the wrath of others in order to protect your children from the consequence of your actions. No, this treatment will not be ignored nor tolerated. Figure this out, Rhaegar, and fix it.”

Elia turned and began to exit the chamber, she could not stay there any longer, before she opened the door she looked over at Lyanna. “You know I am right. You don’t want that girl tied to Jaehaerys. She will tear his mind apart with her wants and motivations. You have lived in Court long enough to recognize the type. You still at your core have not changed, have you Lyanna.”

Watching the younger queen flinch, Elia continued, “When my husband wrote to you, so long ago, even though you were young, you knew it would have been prudent to stop writing...to say something...but you didn’t. You found yourself loving my husband, and though you had not acted on it, you took the opening to be his woman when the opportunity offered itself.”

“Elia-” Rhaegar’s voice spoke of warning, but it was ignored. 

“This moment was no different. You knew you should not have let Rhaegar turn his attention away from the current match, you should have said something against it, but you found an opportunity to save your son...and you took it. Once again your character is found poorly lacking and duly noted, Queen Lyanna.”

Elia ignored the admonition in Rheagar’s roar to stop. She refused to be softened by the tears in the woman’s eyes, for a wolf is still a wolf no matter the situation...and one should not be surprised when a wolf behaves like one.

*****

Undressed from her more informal attire, she had no plans to exit her chambers, so she donned a short sleep shift in a shade of purple slightly lighter than Rhaenys’s eyes, and silk robe of blue tourmaline. Hair undone and falling carelessly down her back, legs and feet bare. As the sun set on another moon, Elia reclined on her lounger with a glass of pear wine and letter from her children.

It has been four moons since Rhaegar’s betrothal revelation. Relationships are strained, unbearably so. Most of the children have secured their father’s permission to leave the castle. 

Rhaenys , Visenya, and Daeron are in Dragonshield with Viserys and his lovely wife Jayne. 

Aemon and his grandmother are visiting with Daenerys as she is now currently with child and missing her family. Elia is aware that she and her children are not part of that absence, but she does not begrudge Daenerys feeling the loss of the people who do matter to her. She remembers feeling that way for so long when she first arrived as a new bride in King Landing. A place where the warmth and comradery of her childhood home was nonexistent. 

Only Aegon and Jaehaerys remain. In view of the Court, they are amiable and unfailingly polite. In private, they speak very little to each other. Aegon had heeded her words, thank the Mother, but he is angry...more so at his father, but it does add a layer of strain between the brothers. It is her understanding that Jaehaerys has stepped away from formally asking to court Sansa Stark. The news of Aegon possibly stepping down has unsettled the young man, for Elia believes he is angry with Aegon...but more so at Rhaegar for giving him hope by granting him permission to pursue the young woman.

She and Lyanna work much like their sons. There is a public face and a private one. Both women do their best to avoid being in each other presence for too long. Lyanna has her court and Elia has hers. 

What she had not expected was how much hurt the absence of Rhaegar caused her. While he is here, and he speaks to her every day...tries to connect with her as they had been engaging before...she finds that she cannot bring herself to be unguarded towards him. After all these years he still has the power to hurt her. 

Rhaegar has this _schedule_ it seems. For decades, he would spend three nights with Lyanna and four on his own. When Elia returned, he kept to his three with his Northern Queen, and she never inquiries about their time together. Then he’d spend three nights with Elia. Not romantically, though she is sure Rhaegar would have enjoyed that. He would come to her chamber or invite her to his, and they just talked. The past, the present, the future. The whats, the whys, and the hows of what went wrong. That was the man that she knew before it all changed.

Now when he ask to come to her, she feigns illness or exhaustion. When he ask her to come to him, she finds herself resisting the desire to listen to his words, even on the smallest items of no concern. She is not sure what she feels, but she knows that she cannot continue on in this way. 

Elia take another sip of her wine before placing the cup on the table, she finds a comfortable position and opens the first letter. By the time she hears a knock on her door she has read her letter from both her daughters and now she had begun to read a letter from Lady Ashara Dayne. Momentarily forgetting where she was and who she was, Elia gave permission for the person to enter. 

She should not have been surprised by Rhaegar’s appearance at her door, yet she was. She sat up in surprise. Elia appreciated his attempt at banking the heat of desire in his eyes. She was not a fool. Rhaegar still wants her. Not one to lie to often to herself, a part of her will always desire him. It does not mean she needs to act on it. One day perhaps, for she is only human, but this day is not _that_ day. He has removed layers of his own clothes and comes to her a bit more informally dressed than usual. A familiar look, from before the marriage news, took them back to the start. 

“Is everything alright?” She inquired, not sure why he was in her chambers. 

He scoffed at her, more in shared jape, than at her. “Nothing seems right, Elia.” He gestures to a wide seat across from her, she resolves herself to his attentions for the evening, she nods in acknowledgment. “I have spoken with Aegon and he has told me that he thinks he should step down regardless if he expected to marry Lady Margaery. He said that there was someone he thought it best he move on from, but found in the face of having to marry another that he does not think he can do it.”

Elia sighs. She wonders about what her husband and son talk about, all those moons before they arrived to Dragonstone. It is not her duty to tell her husband about their son’s feelings towards another, but she is proud of her son for starting the conversation. 

“Who is she?”

“Have you not asked him?”

“He will not tell me. Why is that? Is it because she is Dornish? We could make that work. Targaryens always look to Dorne for their brides.”

Elia felt a small warmth in her heart for his answer. She tries to find the words that will answer and protect. 

“She is half-Dornish.”

“Elia, what are you not telling me? What is it he won’t tell me? This woman, he loves her you say. Is she from a High House, a commoner, a whore, what?”

“He does love her. For as long as I can remember, Aegon would follow her and listen to her words ever so carefully. He is quite enamored with her, and highly protective of her. She is a member of a well-founded house in Dorne.” Elia could see Rhaegar’s mind calculating her words to find a sum that would give their son what he wanted to make him stay. “But she is a bastard, and he knows that a Crown Prince could never marry such a young woman.”

Her eyes took her husband in as understanding took over, he leaned back further into the chair, his head pillowed on the edge, eyes staring at the ceiling. His sigh, deep and heavy. “I see now.”

Elia rose to get Rhaegar a glass of wine. Filling it to the top, she returned with a glass for him in one hand and a decanter in the other. He looks over to see her offering, his eyes taking in the flesh she has exposed, but once again banking his desire. The restraint on his man astounds her, for most men she knows have very little resolve when faced with a half-naked woman. Gods know it never stopped his father. Passing the tumbler, she ignores the spark that jolt through her hand when their fingers touched.

“I imagine you do.” They drink their wine in silence. 

“Before I discovered that Aegon was alive, I had made peace with Jaehaerys being my heir. Of my three sons, he is the most even tempered. It takes much to make him angered. He’s a thinker that will pause to consider all sides before he acts. He might require more time than he actually has. Jae has an exquisite mind for battle tactics, a skill I hope he never has to use. Quality of companions matters more than quantity and he doesn’t suffer the superficial very well. But he was my heir because he was the best choice at the time. I also had the good fortune of him being born first.”

The man stood, placing his glass beside the decanter before settling beside her. “Now that Aegon is back, I have to consider him for the throne. Before Jae was the best choice, but when I compare them there is a difference between the two that I can not dismiss. In this current place and time, Aegon is the best choice for the realm, while he and Jae are similar in some ways, he is strong where Jaehaerys is not. While I still hold that Jae would be the best King during times of war, that does not mean Jae would walk away from serving his brother and King, should a need arise.”

Rhaegar rested his forearms on his knees, threading his long fingers into his hair. “When we made the marriage alliance, Lyanna and I expected to martyr our son for the consequences of our origin. We couldn’t afford to offend the Tyrell’s then, and we can’t afford to now. I need your counsel, Elia. Not as a mother, but as a Queen to this realm.”

Elia looked away, trying to will herself to do the duty she had accepted. After all isn’t that what she had accused Rhaegar and Lyanna of being unable to do. Slowly she raised her gaze towards his. She tucked her legs under her and nodded for him to continue. 

“I can ask Doran to legitimize this young woman and Aegon could marry her. The Reach would be offended beyond the Gods if I allowed Aegon to marry a bastard before their high-born daughter. They would campaign the commoners to loath Aegon’s Queen, making it so that the realm will not accept a base-born Queen. The realm would have a better king, but the offenses needed to make that happen can lead to consequences that would prevent Aegon from being the king I know he could be since the kingdom might become unstable in the aftermath.” 

Her husband stands and begins to pace before her. 

“I could accept Aegon’s abdication, and he could marry his love, but the realm will inherit a weaker king. You were not wrong about Lady Margaery. She does have a strategic political mind and diplomatic charm, which are strengths to deficits in Jaehaerys’s skill set. In the end, she would tear Jae’s mind apart as he becomes torn between the advice of his council and his queen, when the counsels are cross-purpose. I question what are the wider implication to the realm if the Tyrell’s are tied to the Princess of the Six Kingdoms? What do these implications look like when she is Queen?”

Grabbing his cup, he takes another deep sip.

“Logic tells me that Aegon would be a better man to handle a force such as Lady Margaery. The realm gets the King it should have. Though I do not wish it for them, perhaps he can still have his love, for Lady Margaery is a bit more worldly than most young women. I think she would allow it as long as Aegon were circumspect.” 

He turns to her, his hands outstretched. “What are your thoughts?”

Elia took a settling breath, but found it did little to calm her breath. Palms together, fingers at her lips, she raises her gaze to capture her husbands. 

“Aegon will not disrespect his young lady nor his wife. Not like that. Not after seeing what happened to us. He will keep his vows to Margaery, even if he loves another. I agree you cannot pass over a daughter of a Great House for a bastard. What about a lesser son? Does the agreement state it must be the Crown Prince? You never answered Aegon when he asked.”

“It is strongly implied, but no it does not stipulate. The agreement just states a marriage between a Prince of House Targaryen would marry a Rose of Highgarden. It would be impossible to offer a third or fourth son, when my first two are unwedded. Again, the insult is too high.”

“Let’s pretend that Aemon and Daeron were options. Who do you think would do well with Lady Margaery?”

“Honestly.” Rhaegar drops himself on her chaise, the movement making her breast sway under her robe, his eyes looking ahead lost in thought. “Aemon.”

“Aemon? Really? Why him? I would have thought Daeron to be a little bit firmer and more forthcoming.” Elia’s amazement unhidden. 

“Daeron is too much like Jae in that regard. Now when Jae is done he shuts himself away, but Dae will rage and that is an added pressure we do not need where the Tyrell’s are concerned. Now Aemon, like Aegon, can play the game. He rather manipulate than be manipulated. While he can be a bit self-centered, he does love his brothers, Dany, his grandmother...and most importantly he worships his mother and is loyal to his House. Therefore, he will not act against any of those persons or this family, no matter how lovely Lady Margaery is.”

“Intimacy changes things Rhaegar. You know this. As a married couple they will grow such feelings. She can easily use affection to give or to punish in order to get what she wants. Wouldn’t Daeron be a safer option.”

Rhaegar laughs to himself, before looking at her, brow hiked in sardonic humor. “She might find herself limited if she considers withholding her affections will gain her power over my son. How do I say this without seeming offensive? Aemon is a persuasive young man who enjoys applying his charms on as many ladies as he can.”

“Hmmm...so he and Oberyn would have lots of stories to share.” A smirk tugs at her lips. 

“Very likely.” He adjust himself on the seat, his refills both their cups. 

“That could make a difference then.”

“We still run the issue of two unwedded older sons.”

“What if you made a private overture, and explained the _strong_ possibility of both Aegon and Jaehaerys abdicating their places. That as it stands, Aemon would be next in line. Drive the idea that both sons are committee to following the steps of Targaryens sons who have walked away from the throne. Should they insist on an older son, and he were to renounce his rank, then their lovely Rose would lose her standing at Court. If their goal is to tie their Rose to a Prince in hopes of making her queen, then they don’t really have much of a choice but to demand a match between Aemon. Do you think Aemon would agree? He might feel just as strongly as his older brothers about being forced to marry. How about Lyanna? Would she support this idea?”

“Lyanna and I have spoken and great lengths. While she agrees Aegon would be the better king, she encourages me not to enforce it if he wants to walk away from it. She is resigned to one of our children marrying a Tyrell. But if Aemon has no objection, neither will she.”

“Do you think he will object?” Elia murmurs.

“I do not think so. Well not enough to walk away from the duty of it all. She is beautiful and very...alluring. From my reports, it seems my son enjoys women like her, those who play games. I imagine he would enjoy a wife who likes playing games too.”

Elia shakes her head in sadness. “That is not a good marriage, Rhaegar. A life such as that. It’s sad.”

“It is like you said. If anyone should be made to pay a price for Lyanna and my rash choices, then it should be one of our sons. The penalty will lie on this side of the family, as it should.”

While she does not think it Rhaegar’s intent, Elia felt shamed by the words she spoken in anger. She truly doesn’t think anyone should be made to pay for their parents crimes. This should not be her guilt to feel, but it moves her nevertheless. She could only imagine the magnitude it places on him and Lyanna. 

“Besides we might be surprised, and find that he was been matched with someone well suited to him. If he is fortunate enough, he might find great joy in loving her.” Elia turned away from the softness in Rhaegar’s expression. Unsure how to process that sentiment. 

“I think you might have a plan, Rhaegar.”

“It does not address Aegon. He still needs to marry.”

“Perhaps he steps down, but with Sansa Stark as Jaehaerys’s wife, maybe he could he be a better king. From my interactions with her during the time she was here, I found her to be well-spoken, surprisingly cheeky, observant, and cautious. Those are skills that can be honed under the right instruction...under the right Queens.” Rhaegar sighed into his cup as she spoke. “Just something to consider.” 

Elia rose to get a cup of water. Rhaegar’s large hand reached out for her thigh, pulling her close to stand in between his wide stance, another hand rested on her hip. “Tell me truth, Elia. It would not anger you if Aegon were not King. If your son were not my heir.”

Her long fingers threaded through his long hair; she can still recall moments of passion when she would tug on it...he had such a clever mouth...one he would use often to make her lose control. Not today though. Leaning down into his space, he looks up at her. 

“Rhaegar, I gave up on our son being your heir long ago. This place is insidious. If Aegon rather live his life away from the venomousness of this place, then I support his choice, as should you...if not as his king, then as his father.” Lips a hairs breath away, they pull apart. “It is late. I think its best we finish this conversation with Lyanna.” 

Elia offered Rhaegar a hand, pulling him towards the door. 

“You’re right. Thank you, Elia. I missed...talking.” His chuckled breath made her glance away. Rhaegar caught her face in his palm, a thumb tracing check. The look in his eyes setting her core on fire. His lips pressed to hers in a gentle chaste kiss. Pulling away, his expression seemingly sentimental, he whispers, “Good night, my Dornish Queen.”

Elia watched as he walked out of her chambers. Her fingers went to her mouth, the pressure, the warmth of his kiss impressed onto her lips. She had not felt that in so long. It felt different, but in many ways it still felt the same. 

A quick knock and Rhaegar poked his head through the door he just opened. “I meant to tell you when I first arrived. Lord Stark has formally requested a betrothal, on behalf of his son Robb for our Rhaenys.”

Elia felt a burst of shock, but she knew her daughter’s heart. While she felt limited by what help she could offer her son, she could do this for her daughter. 

“Tell him yes. She will say yes.” Elia thinks of how most of Rhaenys letters describe her daughter’s frequent and lengthy communications with the young man...and how much in love she is with him. Though the woman in Elia knows that true love comes from surviving the trials life will present to you as a couple, the seeds of it have begun to grow for her oldest. Rhaenys may not be guaranteed endured passion with the young man, but as it stands she is charting her own course, with blessing, so perhaps she has a better chance than most. 

She and Rhaegar share a sad smile, for their daughter is in love, and will soon marry a man who will take her far away from them. A moment she had years to prepare for, while he just acquired their daughter. Rhaegar nods in acknowledgement as he departs once again. The delicate snicker of the door shutting. Elia walks back to her bedchamber. She ends the evening as she usually does, she thinks of her children. Her fierce little dragon will marry. Aegon’s plight feels a bit more settled to her now, and Vissy enjoys her frequent correspondence with the adventurous Ser Humfrey Hightower. 

As she settled into her bed, laying her head on her pillow, Elia dreams of little children running through a garden. Some are fair, other dark...with eyes a blended shade of Lia’s roses. 

_“Where is Grandfather?_ The children laugh as they run past her without waiting for her to respond. They are lovely. One boy and two girls. Elia looks about and can make out the white cloak of the Kingsguard. She cannot see their faces though. They are in a rose garden; one she feels like she has seen before. 

A young Kingsguard calls out to the children as they begin to wander off. “My Graces, please do not leave the gardens. It is your father’s request that you remain here. The Crown Prince has given us explicit instruction not to let you meander off.”

A childish voice floats in the air, “Then follow us Uncle.” The guard takes off and the dream begins to fade, leaving a trace of hopefulness in the gentle curve of her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, can you guess who will be the next King? 
> 
> If you figured that out, then can you guess his Queen? 
> 
> Want to take a stab at who the uncle could be who has joined the Kingsguard? (It could be a character from canon that I may not have mentioned yet.)
> 
> I left some crumbs (ok...I feel like I left a whole bag of clues...lol).
> 
> Just so you know, I won't confirm...that would be a spoiler (lol), but I'll enjoy your predictions as to how Elia's "vision" came to be.

**Author's Note:**

> I am writing the next and hopefully last part of this series. It will be a departure from my usual style where I focus a whole chapter on one character's POV.
> 
> My goal is to write snippets from different characters POVs that move the story from the end of this story's "cliffhanger dilemma" to the endgame. I will cluster these POV to create long chapters. 
> 
> Once I am done I will upload the story as its own part in the series with multiple chapters. I would like to keep the chapters to 3, but I don't know how long the overall piece will be. I am estimating I will be done by the end of February, however it could be earlier. 
> 
> Let's see how that turns out how shall we...lol.


End file.
